Lord of the Rings: Force of Nature
by xXBlack'BladeXx
Summary: 'Only those who are pure of heart have the power to defeat the dark...' She was an outsider. She was cursed. But she could break the curse, so long as she never forgot who she truly was and kept a loving, pure heart. I DO NOT OWN LORD OF THE RINGS... but I wish I did. :) Slight AU/Crossover.
1. Foreword

Foreword

Foreword

**BEFORE****YOU BEGIN READING THIS FANFICTION THERE**

**ARE A FEW THINGS YOU NEED TO KNOW TO UNDERSTAND IT A BIT MORE CLEARLY, SO I HIGHLY SUGGEST YOU READ THIS.**

This fanfiction trilogy (yes, there's going to be three parts of this because that's how Lord of the Rings is) is somewhat of an AU crossover between The Lord of the Rings trilogy and the Avatar; The Last Airbender universe. It's like Avatar because there's element bending, benders, and, of course, an Avatar, as well as a few other things from the Avatar world. It's like Lord of the Rings because… well… it's a LOTR fanfiction originally and it takes place in Middle Earth and has many other factors that are LOTR.

First thing you need to know is that in this story there are no nations, just Middle Earth. Elves bend water: Men bend fire: Dwarves bend earth (that's kind of a no-brainer): and Hobbits bend air (because the air nomads seemed like happy, light-hearted people and so do the Hobbits). The sub-elements apply too. Men have lightning of course, and as such so do the Nazgul since they were once men, except since the Nazgul are now afraid of fire, they can only bend lightning. Because Saruman said that orcs were once Elves, waterbending orcs have learned bloodbending, as have Uruk-hai. Dwarves, of course, know metal bending.

The second thing you need to know is that this is more of an AU for the Avatar universe than it really is for LOTR, so this is separate from anything in the original Avatar universe. So some of the lore might be the same, but don't expect Ember to be connecting with Aang or Roku or Kioshi because were never a part of this AU 'verse. Another thing: because there are no nations, the Avatar isn't reincarnated into the next nation in the cycle but instead the next race in the cycle: i.e. Elf, Dwarf, Man, Hobbit. The Avatar cannot be an orc because they would be a dark avatar then. My OC was born into the Dwarf race, but she is also half Man. She is the first crossbred Avatar ever—something that was thought could never happen. There is a reason for this phenomenon, but it's one that I won't reveal at this time. :^P

Another thing you need to know are what other things besides element bending and stuff like that will be in this story and what won't be. First of all, there will be none of Avatar's hybrid animals. In other words, if you're looking for a Sky Bison or a Polar Bear Dog, you're not going find one here—sorry. However, the Avatar does need an animal guide to help them on their spiritual journey. So Ember will have a close animal friend like Aang as Appa and Korra has Naga. Whether or not she will us the animal as a form of transportation is still being decided upon (I have yet to decide what the animal will be).

Then of course there's some of the things I'm going to add to the original LOTR characters and story simply for creative liberty's sake… that and because I like to experiment and irritate people—ha ha! Other benders in the fellowship will include: Aragorn, Boromir, Legolas, and possibly Pippin. Legolas is a healer as well as a waterbender. This fact is what causes the tension between him and his father because Thranduil is jealous of his son's healing power (sorry, I never liked Thranduil). Aragorn is a firebender, simply because I thought it'd be cool to see him take on the Nazgul with firebending rather than a torch :3. The ranger can also bend lightning. Boromir can only bend fire, and of course if I end up deciding that Pippin will be a bender, he'll be an airbender. Elrond will have to be a bender of course and will have to have a healing power (he uses magic with it as well. There is still magic in Middle-Earth; that hasn't changed). I'm currently deciding on what others characters should be benders. I am open to any opinions you have. I like reviews that have praise (duh! Who doesn't like that?) and constructive criticism. I can handle flames, but be warned; they will be met with me shoving my own thoughts and opinions down your throat, especially if you catch me on a bad day.

**I DO NOT OWN LORD OF THE RINGS OR AVATAR; THE LAST AIRBENDER OR THE LEGEND OF KORRA OR ANYTHING IN RELATION. I AM SIMPLY BORROWING THE CHARACTERS AND SOME OF THE IDEAS FOR CREATIVE PURPOSES. EMBER IS MINE, AND ANYONE WHO SEEKS TO USE HER—AND DOES SO—WITHOUT ME GRANTING PERMISSION WILL BE THROWN INTO MOUNT DOOM TO SMELT ALONGSIDE GOLLUM AND THE RING. YOU HAVE BEEN SO FOREWARNED. THANK YOU:) **


	2. Prologue

Part 1

The Early Years

❧Prologue❧

_ Three Rings for the Elven-kings under the sky,_

_ Seven for the Dwarf-lords in their halls of stone,_

_ Nine for Mortal Men doomed to die,_

_ One for the Dark Lord on his throne_

_ In the Land of Mordor where the Shadows lie._

_ One Ring to rule them all, One Ring to find them,_

_ One Ring to bring them all and in the darkness bind them_

_ In the Land of Mordor where the Shadows lie._

Everyone knows of the Rings: three for the Elves, seven for the Dwarves, nine for the race of Men, and, of course, the Ring of Power. But what most people don't know is that there was another Ring. A living Ring, not like the Ring of Power, but not unlike it either. This Ring was in the form of a child. A young girl. A half-blood between Man and Dwarf-kind.

Like her fellow Rings she was forged by and belonged to Sauron the Deceiver; her powers meant to be his to control and wield at his will. But unlike the other Rings, she had a choice. A chance to choose between good and evil. To use her gifts for dark or light. To surrender to her dark master or oppose him. All she need do was make the decision to live the life of torment or the life of love. But such decisions are never easily made, for many are shrouded with fear and doubt… especially for those who seem damned from birth.

May's POV:

There is an unsettling feeling in the village this day━more so than I have ever felt on any day before. I do not like it. Carefully I look around the market-place and see that all eyes of every one of its inhabitants are trained directly on me. This should not surprise me, for I have received these looks for the past five years, ever since I was accused of whoring about with a Dwarf and then bringing his bastard child into the world. But there is something within these glares that is darker and colder than there has ever been before. The people do not quickly avert their eyes whenever I look at them like is usual. I am afraid. I fear not only for my life but for that of my daughter: the supposed bastard of a Dwarf. I must get home. Pulling my cloak more tightly around me and tucking my basket close to my side, I flee towards the old run-down shack that serves as our home at the edge of the village. I feel the glares bore into my back the entire way.

I'm finally home, though I fear that the storm I felt brewing in the market-place is still coming. I quickly push through the door and bar it as soon as I close it before I even think about letting the breath that I have held all the way from the market-place out. Then I turn and hurry into the depths of my sorry home. " Ember," I call out. " Ember, come here, please."

" Comin', Mama!" a blithe little voice chirrups from behind the door that serves as her bedchamber. A second later the door is being flung open and my precious little girl of five years comes skipping out into the main room, happy as a lark.

I can't help but smile at my child. She is so young and innocent and full of life. She has no troubles and no cares in all the world, except for the fact that she has no father and that the entire village despises her existence. They all believe her to be a bastard, and worse than that, a half-blood bastard. Though a half-breed she may be, a bastard she is not. Nobody knows, for we kept the wedding secret, but her father and I were married briefly before his disappearance. I don't know where he went or what happened to him, all I know is that I loved him dearly and that she is the product of that love, so I cherish her every day. I have tried to tell the villagers, but they don't listen. Nobody wants to listen to a woman who jumps beds with someone of another race, even if they were in fact married.

It is quite amazing actually. When Ember's father and I were married, we believed that I was barren, and yet, here our child is. That fact greatly saddens as well as brings great joy to me. Because of what she is, she will have a hard life ahead of her. People will hate and fear her, just as those here in the village hate and fear her. She knows what the people in the village think of her, for I have talked with her in depth on the subject so that she will understand and not be confused when the other village children run from her and insult her. Yet, somehow she does not seem to care. I must have a very brave daughter, or a very foolhardy one.

" I's cleaned up me room, Mama," the child informs me, her unnatural but beauteous purple eyes **[A/N before you start to call her a Mary Sue because she has purple eyes, wait and give it a chance. There is a reason her eyes are unnaturally colored. XP] **sparkling up into my own.

My smile drops for a minute as I hear her speaking in the village cant. " Ember," I responded, warning in my voice, " what have I said about speaking like the other villagers?"

Ember's smile melts away and she looks down at the floor, drawing shapes in the dust that coats it with her toe. " To not to," she mumbles, no longer speaking in that unintelligible accent.

" And why is that?"

" Because I'm better than that and you don't want me to turn into one of the villagers."

" That's right," I nod. " I don't want you to turn out to be like these small-minded, uneducated villagers, and it's not what your father would have wanted either."

" I'm sorry, Mama," my darling little girl apologizes, her voice small and meek.

I can't help but smile lovingly. " I know you are, my love," I soothe, kneeling down to her level and slipping a finger beneath her chin so that I can tilt her head up to met her eyes. " I just… I want a better life than this for you. You're destined for greatness my Ember, and I know you can meet it if only given the opportunity."

My child gently smiles at me, her eyes once again twinkling, a purple fire blazing and dancing within them. " You really think so, Mama?" she questions, sheepish.

I lean forward and nuzzle my nose against hers. " I _**know**_ so," I proclaim lovingly. That's when I hear it: a vicious roar, muffled but thunderous nonetheless. The dread that I experienced in the market today returns and hits me ten-fold in the stomach. I pull away from my daughter and stand. " Ember," I say, though I do not look at her, " stay here." I leave her and return to the door. Carefully unbarring it, I open it a crack and peer out. The roaring grows louder and much to my dismay, my suspicions are confirmed.

A riot is headed straight for our house. Every able-bodied member of the village must be a part of it, it is so large. I can see all of the village firebenders spouting off flames from their fists and spitting fire from their mouths like dragons as they roar. Others who are non-benders are carrying pitch-forks and maces and other numerous weapons and objects to use as weapons.

They're coming for us.

Quickly I slam the door and re-bar it, then I quickly head back into the other room where I left Ember. Like the good girl she is, she is still standing where I left her, only now she looks nervous; she knows that something's amiss. She plays with a strand of her long dark-brown-almost-black hair, winding and unwinding it around her small, delicate fingers, something she only ever does when she is nervous or bored, and from the look on her face, I know that she can't possibly be bored.

" Mama?" my five-year-old asks timidly. " Is there something wrong?"

I open my mouth and begin to shake my head to tell her that everything is fine, but I stop myself. I can't lie to her; she knows better and won't believe me. Besides, at a time like this, when so many terrible things can happen, it's not right to lie to her. Sighing, I nod. " Yes, I'm afraid there is, dearest one."

" What is it?"

I bite my lip, deciding whether I should tell her or not, but soon she makes the decision for me.

" It's the villagers," she concludes, fear growing more evident in her beautiful lavender eyes, " isn't it?"

I can't help but smile. She always has been a clever girl. I nod again.

" Wh-what are we going to do, Mama?"

I think for a moment. The roaring grows louder. Suddenly I know what must be done. I reach out and take Ember's hand and lead her along with me towards the back of the house in the direction of the small attached stable. " Come with me," I say, though she really has no choice in the matter as I'm already dragging her behind me. I don't waste time in fiddling with the door that leads to the stable━it somehow always manages to get hopelessly stuck━and simply blast through it with my firebending. I ignore Ember's look of alarm, as she's never seen me use my bending in such a forceful way before, and hasten through into the dark stable. Our scruffy dun pony, Rags━as Ember so fondly named him━whickers at us. His ears twitch and his tail flicks in a casual friendly greeting as though nothing is wrong. How lucky this beast is to not realize the danger of the situation!

I seize the saddle and blanket and order Ember to grab the bridle, and then I proceed to tack up Rags. The mild mannered pony takes no offense to my rough, hasty handling━he doesn't so much as twitch a muscle. " Thank you, my friend," I whisper into his ear as I adjust his bridle. With everything ready, I grab the reins and lead Rags towards the doors that open out the back of the stable.

Ember hurries ahead and pushes the doors open, then she once again turns to me. " Mama," she says frightfully, " what's going on?"

I look down upon her sadly. Kneeling down I put my hands on her shoulders. " Ember," I choke, trying to ignore the roar of the crowd in the background, " the day you were born was the happiest day of my life. The very minute I saw your beautiful little face… the way your little hand held my finger, like you never wanted to let go… my most cherished memories. Since that day I have watched every step, every struggle, and I have loved you all the more for it. I love you more than I have ever loved anything else in this life. You are my center━my entire world." Tears come to my eyes and start to flow down my cheeks. " Never would I have guessed that our time together would end like this."

" Mama," Ember quivers, throwing her arms around my neck, " please stop. You're scaring me."

I embrace her tightly. " Oh, no, I don't want to scare you, Ember," I croon, my own voice beginning to break. " I just want you to know what you mean to me before…" I can't say the rest.

" Before what?" Ember urges.

" Nothing," I sigh. I pull back and cup her cheek with my hand. Gazing into her eyes for what I know will be the last time, I can't help but think of everything I'm going to miss. Her first changes into a woman. Her first love. Her first broken heart. Her wedding. Who will be there to oversee them all and help and support and comfort her through them if I am not? I can only trust and pray to the Valar that she will not be alone.

The roaring grows louder and draws my attention. I look in the direction of the sound for a moment before turning back to my child. Suddenly, as though I am blessed with a vision by the Valar, I no longer see a terrified child before me, but a strong, brave, confident young woman, ready to take on the world. I see something else too; something I take great pride and comfort in. That's when I know that, no matter what happens to me, she will be all right. As soon as it had appeared, the vision is gone and I am once again gazing down at my frightened five-year-old. Taking her head in my hands, I lean down and kiss her forehead. " I love you, my little force of nature," I whisper as I embrace her one last time.

" I love you too, Mama," she croaks into my shoulder.

I hold her a second longer and then pull away. " Come," I say, and help her mount Rags. Thank the Valar she inherited my horse-sense. When she is mounted and settled I put my hand over hers to draw her attention. " You must ride and ride hard," I inform her. " Take to the wilderness and stay close to the river. Follow it either up or down, you will come to a village or city as some point."

" I will, Mama," Ember nods, trying to put on a brave face. " But… what about you?"

I give her a sad smile, for she knows what will happen to me.

Tears brim in her eyes and a single sob escapes her. " Oh, Mama…" she cries.

I take her arm and pull her down a little bit closer. " None of that," I scold her. " You have to be a big, brave girl now."

Ember simply nods and wipes her tears away as she sniffles.

" Remember what I told you," I remind her yet again. " And most importantly, never forget who you are."

" What do you mean, Mama?"  
I shake my head. " In time you'll understand." The roaring grows louder and I look off in the direction again. I can see the firelight and the shadows. Quickly I turn back to Ember. " Go now," I order her, waving her off. " Go!"

Ember shakes her head, another tear trickling down her cheek. " Mama…"

" Go!" I scream harshly and firebend so that Rags will take off.

The pony screams at the flames and breaks into a gallop, Ember just barely managing to stay astride him. " Mama!" she cries, looking over her shoulder at me.

" Go, my love," I whisper, more tears streaming down my cheeks now as I watch her disappear up the rise. Then I turn back to meet the oncoming crowd.

Ember's POV:

As I reach the top of the rise, I manage to slow down Rags and stop him. I turn back to look and see what is happening. The house where Mama and I lived is ablaze. There is a group of people huddled together, throwing stones and bending fire at something hidden in the middle: Mama. " Mama…" I whisper, my heart breaking. I'm watching her die━I'm watching them kill her! Suddenly I hear shouts and cries and I realize that there is a group of the villagers coming… towards _**me**_! Panicking, I kick Rags as hard as I can, but he doesn't move. I keep kicking his sides harder and harder but he still refuses to move. " You stupid beast!" I scream. " They're getting closer!" I try again; Rags still doesn't move. I look back over my shoulder to see the crowd far closer now━too close for comfort. " Oh, they're almost on top of us!" That's when one of the mob members punches a fireball in my direction. Luckily it falls several feet short of my position, but as it hits the ground it ignites the dry fall grass. I scream in terror. Rags frightens and leaps into a dead run, carrying me far and fast away from the people who would otherwise kill me. The people who killed my mother, and destroyed my life.


	3. The Lostling

Part 1

The Early Years

Celtic Woman; _The Lost Rose Fantasia_

1

❧The Lostling❧

1 Year Later:

Aragorn's POV:

With cautious eyes, I walk through the muddy streets of the village. I have been here before and know of all the pick-pockets and thieves that live in this place, and I am not about to be taken advantage of as so many other people who tread these streets have. Still, I can't seem to hold their choice of lifestyle against these people. This is a very poor town with far more people than it can support, and work is limited. What work can be found here overworks the people and underpays them, leaving them all but penniless on their day of pay.

Two children catch my eye and I turn my head slightly to see them. They are a young boy and girl, most likely siblings, judging from the resemblance they share. The girl must be at least nine and her brother maybe seven. They are both dirty, dressed in rags, shoeless, frighteningly thin—the girl even more so than the boy—and digging through the garbage left in the alley, searching for some sort of morsel to ease the pain in their doubtlessly empty bellies. My heart goes out to them. It is bad enough to witness adults starving from hunger, and to see children in the same situation... it is absolutely heartbreaking. It is times like this where I begin to wonder if my decision to remain in exile instead of taking my rightful place on the throne of Gondor was the right one.

Suddenly the boy pulls away from the garbage holding a half-rotten apple, the only edible thing to be found within the stinking, rotting pile. For most people, even the thought of eating such a thing would turn their stomachs, but for these children it is a treat. However, a small treat; it will not fill their bellies. The boy lets out a delighted cry then turns to his sister, pulling on the mud hem of her tattered skirt to gain her attention. When she turns to him, he shows her his find. Once she sees what it is, she too releases a joyous noise and snatches it out of her brother's hands to cradle it in her own, as if to really prove to herself that the apple is real and not a hallucination. Her small, pink tongue runs over her thin, chapped lips as she gazes at the morsel. Then she feels my presence. Looking up from the apple, the child catches sight of me and stares at me for a moment, still as a stone.

Noticing his sister's quietness, the small boy looks in my direction also. For a moment he stares at me as well, but then he leaps up and comes running in my direction. Suddenly he is right in front of me and looking up into my face, having to tilt his head far back in order to do so. He examines me for a minute more before he seems to decide that I'm nice enough, and then he launches into his begging routine. " Please, sir," he says in a small voice, " c'n y' spare a few coins? M'si'ter and I—we's awful hung'y."

As he is begging, his sister quietly and meekly walks up behind him. She puts her small, bony hands on her brother's shoulders and looks up into my face as well. Unlike her brother, there is a hint of fear in her large brown eyes, though it is masked well. She says nothing.

For several minutes, I look back and forth between the two gaunt faces and hungry, wanting eyes. I have a strict code not to give money to beggars, as it only encourages them, but with children... even I am not that hard of heart. Still, I am as discreet as I can be when I dig into my coin pouch that it tied to my belt and hidden beneath my cloak. Bending down, I drop several coins into each of their hands, making sure the exact same amount goes to each child as to not start a feud. " Here you are," I say in a hushed voice as I give them the money. I can't help but chuckle at the amazed looks on there faces—doubtless they've seen so much coin in one place before, let alone held it in their possession. " Be wise with what you buy," I advise them sternly, " and don't waste it." I fold their slender fingers over the coins and smile at their astonished faces. " And remember," I add with a wink, " this is our little secret." I put my finger to my lips in an emphasis as I turn away from them and give a friendly ruffle to the boy's shaggy, wavy, dark hair as I walk off. I can still hear the clink of coins and the amazed muttering of their counting as I walk away.

Several minutes later and I stop at one of the shops in the market place to replenish my bread supply. I still have several days journey ahead of me as I head to Rivendell, and I don't have much bread left. The vendor crosses over to me, asking what I want, and, after a few quick calculations, I request a week's worth of bread. She goes to get the order and I return to my coin pouch to retrieve the needed amount. By the time the vendor comes back, I have the right amount, and we make the exchange. " Thank you, ma'am," I quietly say to the woman.

" You have a good day, sir," she replies with a toothless grin.

With one last nod, I turn to leave and that's when I catch movement out of the corner of my eye. Turning to look I see that a small child is trying to steal a fresh-baked roll. " Hey!" the exclamation escapes my mouth right as a fireball goes flying past my head towards the child. Apparently I am not the only one to have caught her in the act.

The little girl leaps back out of the way of the fireball with a cry of fear. She turns to try and run away, but she is caught by the bread-maker before she has the chance. She cries out again. Can't say that I blame her—the grip the woman has on her arm has to be quite painful.

" You little thievin' vagrant!" the owner of the shop screams at the child. She jerks the girl back towards her counter. " You dirty, rotten, worthless rat," she hisses into the girl's face. " It's 'bout time I taught you a lesson I should've taught you a long time ago." With that haunting phrase, the woman reaches back behind the counter and pulls out a sickle scythe, mercilessly sharp and gleaming in the light. She is going to cut this child's hand off! All over a small roll! The woman raises the scythe high above her head, all the while glaring and snarling down at the girl. " This is the last time you rob from my store," she vows. She is about ready to swing the weapon down.

The little girl grimaces and turns her head away as she waits for the worst to come. She begins to tremble and whimper. A single tear rolls down her cheek.

I've had enough of this! Quickly, I step forward and seize the wrist of the woman's hand that is holding the scythe. She looks back over her shoulder at me and stares into my eyes in surprise. " That is enough," I murmur, my voice calm but cold as stone. Reaching up with my other hand I jerk the scythe out of her grip and release her, all the while holding the weapon tight in my grip at my side. I give the woman a hard look. " Tell me," I say, motioning to the girl who is simply standing there, watching in amazement, " what do you hope to accomplish by marring this poor child?"

The woman's face goes from shocked to angry. She glares at me and bears her toothless gums as she growls. " What business is it of yours what I do to them that steals from me?" she spits.

" Answer the question," I reply darkly, causing the child to look at me in even more awe.

She woman gives a low growl. " This little varmint," she points jaggedly at the little girl, " showed up in our village around this time last year. Since then she's been stealin' from my store as well as the others around."

" And the other children of the town don't?" I question calmly, setting the sickly scythe back on the counter beside me.

" She steals twice as much as they do!" the bread-maker snaps. She turns to glare at the child. " Takes twice as much as they do, and 'bout twice as small as most of 'em. I warrant there ain't dwarf-blood in her, dirty, filthy, stinkin' half-breed."

My eyes flicker to the child just in time to see a slight flicker of pain and shame flash through her lavender eyes. Lavender eyes! That's quite a rarity—and quite exquisite as well. Then I turn back to the woman. " And you believe that severing her hand will cease her thievery?" my voice is skeptical as I say this.

" Couldn't hurt," the shop-keeper replies with a shrug. Then she gives the child an evil grin. " Besides, pretty little ticklers such as them'd make a nice addition to my collection in the back."

The girl backs away from the woman with a look of utter horror on her face. Gasping, she pulls her hands behind her.

My eyes travel to the child again. I examine her.

She _**is**_ quite small and is terribly thin as well as filthy with mud and muck. Her long dark brown hair is dirty, matted, and in much need a trim because of it. She is dressed in much the same thing as the other girls that roam these streets: a thread-bare, patchwork dress that is too big for her thin frame. She wears no footwear—just like the other children—though, through the muck and grime, I can make out a cloth that is wrapped around one of her feet, most likely shielding a wound. Her beautiful eyes are full of fear and pain and hunger.

My heart breaks for her just as it did for those other children only moments ago. I decide it right then and there—I have to get this child out of this village. Granted, she is in no worse-off shape than the other children here, but if the woman is right and she is a half-blood of anything, it will be far too dangerous for her to stay here. Stepping forward towards the girl, I look down into her eyes. She looks back up into mine with fear and uncertainty. I smile at her then put my hand on her shoulder and pull her closer to me. " Well, you won't have to worry about her stealing from you any longer," I declare, still looking into the child's eyes. I then look up at the woman. " I'm taking her with me."

" Wh-what?" the child breathes in shock. It is the first time she's spoken, and, though it is only a small phrase, I can hear that she has had proper teaching when it comes to speaking. There's no trace of village cant in her voice. This child just keeps getting more and more mysterious.

" What?" the bread-maker says at the same time.

I look down and meet the girl's awestruck eyes once more as I nod. " You heard me," I respond. " The child comes with me." I look to the woman once more. " Now, I'll need another loaf of bread and that roll." I point to the bread the girl tried to steal.


	4. An Unlikely Friendship

**AHealingRenaissance—Thank you for being the first and only person to review. :) I'm glad you're enjoying this. And, yes—I believe that old hag needed her hand cut off too. XD**

**Unfortunately, I do not own Lord of the Rings. I seriously wish I did though!**

* * *

Part 1-The Early Years

" You just call out my name... and you know wherever I am... I'll come runnin'... to see you again. Winter, spring, summer, or fall... all you have to do is call... and I'll be there—yes, I'll be there. You've got a friend..." Billy Ray Cyrus; _You've Got a Friend_

2

An Unlikely Friendship

Ember's P.O.V:

This tall man is very nice, probably the nicest person I have ever met in all my life, but I must admit that he is a bit strange. Partly because simply of what he is: nice. Besides my mother—may the Valar rest her soul—no person of any of the races of Middle Earth has ever been kind to me. To them, all I am is a dirty, filthy, half-breed bastard or a runty, thieving rat, and they all treat me like the muck that coats their boots. But this man—this Strider—he is quite different. We are several hours outside of the village now, heading east, and not once has he spoken harshly or raised a hand to me. Instead he is rather quiet, and, when he does talk, he uses the nicest and kindest of tones I've only ever heard my mother use towards me and speaks to me of the nature around us, explaining to me what this is and what that is. He is calm, and, despite his quietness, the silence that seeps in between us isn't strained and awkward like you would think, but rather comfortable instead. I try to never speak of such things about people before I truly get to know them, but I feel safe with Strider—safer than I've felt in a long time. Still, I haven't told him what I am, and I don't plan on doing so unless he asks me outright, but something tells me it wouldn't matter to him. Along with his noble, regal air, there almost seems to be a sense of secrecy about him; as though he is keeping something hidden. Knowing that we both have our own secrets only helps to make me feel more at ease with him.

Suddenly, Strider stops in his tracks and one of his large, rough, warm hands gently grips my shoulder, stopping me as well. I look up at him in confusion and he in turn meets my eyes and puts a finger to his lips, signaling for me to be quiet. His gray eyes twinkle and a small smile pulls at the corners of his lips. He kneels down. " Look, there," he whispers to me, his warm, pleasant, musky, woodsy smell waving over me.

Still confused, I turn my head and follow the direction of his finger with my eyes, and then I see. Several yards down the path we are traveling, a mother doe is crossing with her tiny spotted fawn. The fawn is skipping and dancing at its mother's side. I grin in delight, but then the sweetness of the moment is transformed into sadness as memories of my mother come to my mind. It's been a little over a year now... and I still miss Mama so much that it hurts to think about her. My smile slips away and my eyes sting with tears. I bite my lip and, sniffling, raise a hand to wipe my eyes. I don't want to cry because I'm afraid, if I do, I will never be able to stop crying, and I especially don't want to cry in front of Strider.

Strider notices my distress and gives me a concerned look, but he doesn't ask what's wrong, which I am very thankful for. Instead he gives my shoulder a gentle squeeze and smiles sympathetically at me. " Let's move on," he says softly. " We've only a few hours of daylight left, and we really should find a stream and make camp before nightfall." He walks on and I silently follow. " And once we've done that," he adds, looking back over his shoulder at me with a friendly, warm grin, " I'll cook us up a nice big supper. How does that sound?"

My stomach grumbles and my mouth waters at the mention of food. I remember the mutton he picked up from the butcher before we left the village.

* * *

The sun is now setting, Strider and I have made camp, and I sit upon a small log, intently watching as my companion cooks that promised supper. The mutton fries in the skillet over the fire and gives off wonderful, delicious aromas. Along with the mutton, there are potatoes, onions, and buttered bread for supper. Strider has already allowed me a piece of the bread to tide me over until the whole thing is done cooking, but I'm still starving. It's been a long time since I've had a full-course meal. My mouth waters so much at the aroma of the concoction that I'm continuously wiping my mouth to clear the saliva off my lips and chin, and my stomach is so loud that I know Strider and probably anything else within the vicinity of the camp can hear it.

" Hey," Strider's voice grabs my attention and I look up to see him smiling at me as I watch the food. " While there's still some light left, why don't you go down to the steam and wash up?" he suggests before throwing me a blanket. " It'll pass the time."

I catch the blanket and look from it, down to the stream a few yards away, and then back to the cooking food.

Strider chuckles. " It's all right," he assures me. " I won't begin without you."

I give the man a dejected look, but rise and head to the stream like he suggests. Once I reach it, it is dark enough and I'm far enough away from the fire to not worry about being seen. I quickly pull off my tattered dress and underwear, throw them off to the side, unwind the cloth around the sore on my foot, and slip into the water. A gasp escapes me as the water is quite cold, but after a moment or too, my body becomes adjusted to the temperature and I begin to wash. I scrub and scrub away at my body, washing off all of the layers muck and grime and mud that have coated me for as long as I have been in that village. No part of my body goes unscrubbed, not even my hair, though it's so matted and tangled that it will have to be cut in order to be made decent again. Then I retrieve my clothes and the cloth I use to bind my foot and wash them out as well. I don't expect to be getting new clothes anytime soon, so it's best to make sure that my dress is at least clean, even if it is in poor condition, and the cloth bandage is even more dirty since it's been through more muck than the dress. Once everything is clean, I make my way back to the bank and hoist myself up onto it. Then I grab my right foot, pull it up into my lap, and look at my wound. It's a large gash that I received a little over a week ago when I stepped on a piece of broken glass buried in the mud. It looks better than it did then, but it still doesn't look good, and there's some dirt inside of it. Is that bad? Should I tell Strider? After a moment's debate, I simply decided to wash the cut out as best as I can and not bother Strider with it. He's already done so much for me. With my sore cleaned out, I take the newly washed and wet bandage and bind it around my foot again before standing, slipping into my wet underwear, wrapping the blanket around me, picking up my washed dress, and going back to the fire.

When I return, supper is ready, and Strider already has a plate set out for me. Without a second thought, I dive in. I'm so hungry that I don't even use the utensils Strider has given me and just eat with my fingers. This isn't polite, I know, but I'm too starved to care and Strider doesn't seem to mind. When I'm finished with my plate I look to my companion. " May I have some more?" I question, holding my plate out.

Strider gives me a sympathetic smile but shakes his head. " I'm sorry, little one," he apologizes with sincerity. " I know you would like more, and I wish I could give you more, but if you have too much more you'll get sick. You've been malnourished for quite sometime and your stomach is shrunken because of it. It will be a while before you'll be able to hold down what average children your age should be able to."

I know he's right, but I can't help the pout that comes to my face as I look down at my depressingly empty plate. " Oh."

Strider eyes me for a minute more, and I can feel the sorrow and guilt coming from him. " However," he says, causing me to look up again, " I can give you an extra cup of milk." The man turns away for a moment and pours some of the goat's milk he bought at the village into a cup before turning back to me with it. " Just be sure to drink slow," he warns me, giving me the cup.

With a nod, I take the cup and slowly sip at it like he has instructed.

While I drink the milk, Strider continues to watch me. Then after a moment, he breaks the quiet by asking, " What is your name, child?"

I swallow and murmur, " Ember."

" Ember. What a pretty name."

" Thank you."

" Where are you from, Ember?"

" A village a long way away from here."

" Where are your parents?"

The cup stops half-way to my lips, and for a long time, I'm silent. Finally I shrug. " They're dead." I take another sip of the goat's milk. It's not bad, but I'm not sure I'll ever quite get used to the taste of it.

Strider stops his questioning there.

It is a long time before either of us speaks again, and when we eventually do, after a few minutes of discussion, it's decided that something must be done about the mass of wadded hair on my head. I spend the next hour or so seated before Strider, my blanket wrapped around me and my dress drying on a nearby rock, as he works at trying to trim my hair. Eventually it's made clear that the only way to trim my hair is to just cut it clean off, and I don't object. It's quite uncomfortable for one to have what feels like pounds of matted hair atop one's head. With several quick but careful snips and trims, the mass is removed, leaving me nearly shaved to the scalp. Strider throws the hair off into the bushes beyond the fire. " I'm sorry it's so short," he apologizes as I carefully run hand over the stubble on my head, " but I'm afraid there was no other option."

I give him a slight smile and shake my head. " No, it's fine," I assure him. " I feel so much better now without it, and it is hair, after all. It'll grow back."

Strider chuckles and smiles, then he looks up at the sky.

I do as well. The sky is so black and the stars are so bright, the fact that there's no moon out tonight making them even brighter. I see what looks like a shooting star pass through the velvety blackness far above, but I don't make a wish. What I really want can't ever come true.

" It's late," Strider's voice brings me back. " It's time you turned in. I'll stay up a little while longer and keep watch, but these are safe parts and a fire going should keep away any unwanted animals."

I simply nod and then crawl to one of the sleeping rolls already set up on one side of the fire. " Good night, Strider," I yawn as I crawl in and begin to make myself comfortable.

" Good night, Ember," my companion returns with a warm, friendly tone in his voice. " Sweet dreams."

I lay down and am almost instantly asleep.

* * *

_She was being chased. She didn't know by what or whom, all she knew was that they wanted her dead. There were angry and evil voices bellowing and laughing all around her—some of it seeming to even come from the roaring flames that surrounded and tried to engulf her._

_ She couldn't see through the smoke, and the air was so hot that it was getting hard to breathe, but the girl forced herself to move on. She had to get away! Running blindly, she didn't stop until, suddenly, she was sliding down a steep slope and plunging into a river. Swimming for the surface, the child broke through, spluttering and gasping for air. And then she was falling over the side of a tall waterfall. She hit the bottom, and, for the longest time, she remained trapped under the current, getting sucked back down every time she tried to go to the surface. She began to think that this was where it was all going to end when suddenly she found herself laying upon dry ground, and, much to her surprise, she was dry as well and not starved of air. But she was still exhausted. Closing her eyes, she child continued to lay there upon the ground, breathing in the sweet scent of the clover beneath her._

_ " Ember," a warm and loving voice came to her ears._

_ The girl raised her head and looked up to see a familiar and much loved person. " Mama!" she cried, tears of joy coming to her eyes. Leaping to her feet, she tried to run to the woman, but with every step she took nearer, the farther away her mother seemed to become. " Mama!" she called out again. " Mama, I'm here! Come back, Mama! Mama!"_

_ Everything went dark and suddenly the child found herself standing beside the beaten, broken, and lifeless body of her mother. Silent tears streamed down her cheeks. " Mama..." she whispered._

_ Suddenly the corpse's eyes, which had been staring listlessly off into nothingness, focused on the girl, though they still looked quite dead and lifeless. " Run, Ember!" the mouth moved and the voice raised in a scream. " Run, Ember, run from the fire! Get away from them! Get away from _**Him**_!"_

_ Frightened, the child turned to run away but she was soon surrounded by hundreds of people, all of them faceless, but terrifying nonetheless. She could feel the rage coming off them. They were all screaming or cackling evilly and they advanced in upon her as one, cutting off every possible route of escape. But then there was more fire beyond the ring of people, and beyond the fire, high-up and far away, there was something even more horrifying than the angry villagers: a great giant eye, lidless, wreathed in flame. _

_ It was terrible, and it kept getting closer and closer, until all of the village people were gone—swallowed up by either the eye or the fire—and it was just the eye. It gazed upon her, its gaze piercing through her flesh and bones, almost burning her. " You are mine," it spoke with a voice that was as loud as a great crack of thunder, deep as the very depths of the oceans, and dark as a night with no moon and stars. " You cannot escape me. There is no hope."_

* * *

Aragorn's P.O.V:

I awake to a blood-curdling scream. Instinctively, I grab the hilt of my sword which lays beside me and draw it out, prepared for battle, but there is nothing there. The adrenaline wears off and fatigue comes over me again, clouding my mind. I don't know what time it is, but I know that it's too early to be awake. And then I hear another scream. Ember! Scrambling out of my nest of blankets, I stumble my away across the dark campsite—there's very little light now the the fire has burned down to a few mere coals—towards the small child.

She is lying there in a hopelessly tangled mess of blankets, thrashing and writhing as though she is fighting and struggling against an enemy. Her face is twisted in fear and pain, and her face is wet with sweat as well as tears. " No!" she howls shrilly. " No, get away from me! Mama! Mama!"

Quickly I kneel down, seize Ember by the shoulders, and begin to shake her awake. " Ember!" I shout, trying to rouse her. " Ember, wake up! It's a dream, child! You have to wake up!"

Almost instantly those beautiful lavender eyes of hers snap open. For a moment they are wild and filled with horror, but then they meet mine and the fear quickly ebbs away and nothing but pain and sadness is left. Tears well up in her eyes and she releases a sob. The next thing I know, the six-year-old has her tiny, frail arms locked around my waist in a death-grip and she is sobbing into my tunic.

I have not had much experience with children, but it does not take a genius to know what must be done here. Quickly, I wrap my arms around the child and pull her close, cocooning her against me. " All right," I whisper, pulling her into my lap. " All right. It's all right now. You're safe—I'm here. Shh. It was just a nightmare. It's all right now, shh." I rock her, caress her back comfortingly, and cradle the back of her shaved head in the palm of my hand as I hold her tight against me, trying to reassure her that she's safe.

" I-I-I-It was horrible!" Ember sobs into my chest. " I-I was so s-s-scared! There was fire a-a-and water..." she takes a shuddering breath, "... and... and people were chasing me, and I saw Mama again and she was dead—all bruised like... like she was stoned! And... and..." The child can say no more, and simply continues to wail into my tunic.

" Shh," I soothe once more. " It's all right. I'm here now—everything's going to be fine." I continue to soothe the little girl for several more minutes until her cries begin to quiet. A few moments more and they've been reduced to mere sniffles and whimpers and hiccups, and then they finally stop altogether. Still, I don't let Ember go. I want her to know for sure that she is completely safe—that I'm here for her for however long she feels she needs me.

Silence seeps in between us, and for a long time, the only noises that fill the night, are the cries and calls of the night creatures.

" I lied to you," Ember suddenly breaks the quiet.

I'm quite caught off guard by this. " What?" I question, not sure I heard right.

" I lied to you," she repeats, sounding more ashamed than before.

" What do you mean?"

" I... I told you that... that my parents were dead," she sniffles. " That isn't true. Not really, anyway."

I remain silent, waiting for her to open up.

There is a deep sigh. " I... I never knew my papa," Ember admits. " My mama married him, but nobody else knew about it... and shortly after, he just disappeared. Mama never knew what happened to him. And then Mama found out she was pregnant. She was... shocked. She never thought she'd be able to have babies... but she did—me. Because nobody knew my mama and papa had been married they all just assumed that she'd been... well, you know."  
I say nothing.

" They hated Mama because of it, and they hated me because of it too. Then one day last year, something inside all of the villagers let loose, and they came for us. Mama put me on our pony and I escaped but... but she didn't." There is a pause. " But... that wasn't the only reason they hated us."

I have a hunch that I know what's about to come next, and before I can stop it, the words have slipped past my lips. " What the woman at the bread store said was true, wasn't it?" I ask, my voice gentle and soft.

Ember nods her head against my chest. " My mama was of the race of Men, but... my papa... he was a Dwarf." That's when the girl pulls away from me and sits up. Looking up, she meets my gaze, and her eyes burn dark purple with the dim light of the embers in the dying fire. " Strider..." she says, voice barely above a whisper, "... I'm a half-breed."

Another quiet creeps in. Through the dim light, I can see Ember's eyes still trained on mine, searching for any sort of response to this news, whether if be good or bad. I must admit, I am a bit shocked. Half-bloods—of any type—are quite rare and are hated by many of all races. Ember's case in no exception. Still looking into her eyes, that purple fire dancing inside them, I begin to speak. " Ember," I reply, " I am terribly sorry for your loss, and I know that nothing anyone will ever say to you will be able to take away the pain or wash away the memory." A small smile begins to tug at the corner of my lips. " I also know that you believe that, since you have now revealed your secret to me, I will be harsh to you, perhaps even abandon you, and it is your right to believe so."

Ember lowers her eyes from mine and hangs her head.

" However," I continue, " I am not going to be or do either of those things." She looks up at me in surprise and I chuckle. " Ember, I do not care what you are or are not. I do not care what others see you as because I do not see you the way they do. In my eyes, I do not see a half-blood, but instead a young girl who is lost, but who is also strong and brave. Half-blood or not, I want to be your friend, Ember, and I am willing to be such... if you'll have me."

For a long time, Ember continues to stare at me in amazement. Then a grin begins to creep across her lips and she nods. " I'd like that," she answers. " I would."

I chuckle. " I was hoping that you would say that." I wipe away one last tear from her cheek with my thumb before releasing a sigh. " Now," I say, " we have a long journey tomorrow, so I suggest we had better get some more sleep before the day finds us."

Fear comes over Ember's face again and she clutches on to me.

I know what she's thinking: the nightmare. Putting my hands on her shoulders, I pull her away just enough so that I am able to meet her gaze again and look deep into her eyes. " It's all right," I assure her. " I won't let them return."

" You promise?"

" I promise." And with that said, I put Ember back down on her bedroll to get comfortable again before retreating back to my side of the fire to retrieve my own sleeping roll.

A few minutes later and Ember and I are side by side—Ember asleep in my arms. I watch her as she sleeps. Her eyelids flutter ever so slightly and tick back and forth. Her breathing is even and restful. This is the most peaceful I have ever seen the girl and there even seems to be a trace of... true happiness on her face. With a slight whimper, Ember snuggles closer to me, and I hold her tighter, letting her know that it's all right. I can't help but smile. Inside my chest, my heart almost seems to swell, though I don't know why. There is just something about this child that makes me feel so content. I know that it hasn't really even been a day since we've met, but I already can't seem to imagine my life without her. She makes me feel... complete. As the night wanes on, sleep begins to creep over me and I yawn. Ember whimpers again and I pull her closer to my chest, whispering soothingly into her ear in Elvish, though I know she doesn't understand it. Before long I'm whispering a lullaby that not only seems to comfort the child in my arms, but lulls me to sleep as well. Before I slip off I whisper into Ember's ear, " No matter what happens, I will always be here for you. I promise you, Ember." And I mean it with my entire heart.


	5. A Revelation

**I know this is a really short, crappy chapter, and I'm sorry, but I didn't really know how to make it better and longer, mostly because it's from Aragorn's point of view and it's hard to write from his P.O.V without making him too OOC (I know I've made him a bit OOC so far). But the chapters after this will get longer, because after this one we get into the second part of the book where we fast forward several years to an older Ember and the whole Fellowship thing. Yay! It's gonna be so much easier to write for a teenager than a six-year-old (I'm sure I've made her sound way older than she should). And for those of you who don't know Avatar: The Last Airbender or Avatar: The Legend of Korra, I'm sorry, but I warned you about this being AU in the Foreword. XDD**

**LadyVanya—Yes, Aragorn will tell Ember who he is, but we won't see that part, because in the next portion of the book she's already gonna know who he is. She will allude back to that though as she narrates the story.**

**AHealingRenaissance—I'm not giving away anything. XDD And I'm happy you're enjoying this. :D**

**I do not own Lord of the Rings... unfortunately. I seriously wish I did though!**

* * *

Part 1-The Early Years

The Track Team; _Avatar_

3

A Revelation

First one day passes, then two, then three before finally a whole week has gone by. We are getting close to our destination, whatever it may be. Strider hasn't told me yet, but he has told me just how many more miles we have to cover before we actually get to this mysterious place. Wherever we're going, I can see that it makes him happy because there's been a small smile on his face for the last two days. I can't help but be glad for him. However, I would be lying if I said that I am feeling all right, because the truth is I haven't felt right for the past few days. I've felt weaker and it's easier for me to run out of breath than before. I dismiss it as an effect of all the traveling I've done the past few days and try not to complain as I don't want to have Strider take anymore time for me. But the longer I continue on as if there's nothing wrong, the worse I feel. Whether I complain or not, Strider seems to notice my distress and increasingly grows concerned, asking me what's wrong. I tell him that everything is fine of course, but my constant request for rest breaks all but completely ruins the lie. In the back of my mind, I remember the dirt I've washing out of the wound on my foot every night and recall how Mama once told me that dirt in a wound is death. I silently wonder if that is the cause of my condition. Surely it can't be! I wash the wound out every night and I usually end up making it nearly bleed again with as rough as I scrub! But what if it is? Shaking my head, I put the thought out of my mind so that I won't worry about it. " _Just a little further_," I keep telling myself as we continue on. " _Just a little bit further and you can be as sick as you want._" I push on.

Strider and I have become closer over the days of our travel. He's managed to open me up a bit more and I'm having conversations with him. Albeit small ones, but conversations nevertheless. Most of our conversing happens at night when we make camp and sit around the fire eating our supper. These times are my favorite because, at these moments, Strider tells me stories of all his adventures and the things he's seen or teaches me the names of the stars and constellations in the heavens before we both end up falling asleep, me in Strider's arms.

Strider... I know I can trust him to be there for me and to protect me. I don't ever have to worry about him losing his patience with me or treating me worse than a maggot in the muck. He's made me feel happier and safer than I have in a long time. He's the best friend I've ever had. I never want to leave this man's side.

We are walking out on an open field full of rocks with only a few clusters of cedar trees hear and there when I suddenly feel the need to stop again. I pause in my tracks and attempt to call out to Strider and let him know, but I can't seem to get breath enough to make any sound. I try again and get the same result. This time feels very different from the other times I've had to stop. I'm much more lightheaded and dizzy than I have been before, and my breath comes out in shallow, wheezing puffs. My legs feel like they can't hold me up any longer and I sink to my knees in the tall grass. " St-St-Strider..." I'm finally able to make the weak call for help.

My tall friend stops and turns towards me with a quizzical look. His quizzical look begins to turn into one of concern and worry. " Ember?" he questions gently, stepping towards me.

I take a few labored breaths before I finally focus on him again. " Strider..." I rasp, "... I don't feel good. Uh..." Everything begins to go dark and the whole world spins as I begin to fall to the ground. The last thing I remember is Strider rushing towards me and crying out before I slip into nothingness.

* * *

Aragorn's P.O.V.

I run as fast as I can towards the hidden entrance into Rivendell. In my arms, I carry Ember's limp, unconscious body and cradle her protectively to my chest. My heart nearly stopped when she collapsed. I've had a feeling that she wasn't feeling well for the past few days with the way she was always becoming winded and the way she was rather pale, but she always said that she was fine. I didn't believe her, of course, but I left it at that and said nothing more, hoping that she would come out and tell me what was wrong. A stupid mistake on my part. For Ember's sake, I just pray that it's not one I will regret.

It seems to take an eternity to make it to the House of Elrond, and when I finally reach it, I bound up stairways, down halls, until I finally reach the room that is Elrond's study. Without hesitation I burst through the door. " Lord Elrond!" I shout as I surge into the room, Ember still held protectively in my arms. I look upon the wise Elf in desperation and fear. " Please," I pant, my voice nearly at a beg, " she needs your help."

* * *

What seems like hours passes as I wait out in the courtyard for word of how Ember is doing. When I left her she was burning up and so weak a frail that I thought she might shatter under my touch. If she were a bit healthier, I might not be so worried, but she's only just started to put on some weight and she's still extremely weak from malnutrition. I can only hope that the dwarf-half of her blood is as hardy as dwarf-blood is rumored to be. Suddenly I hear footsteps and I look up to see Arwen. There is a slight smile upon her lips and I can't help but smile back. Standing up from the bench I've been seated on I stride towards her and sweep her up into my arms as I kiss her with all the love I have for her.

When we finally part, we press our foreheads together and gaze lovingly into each others eyes. " I missed you," she whispers happily, running her slender fingers through my hair.

" And I you," I croon back. " How is the girl?"

Sighing, Arwen pulls back in my embrace a bit and rests her hands on my chest. " She is tired and weak," she reports, " but other than that she will be fine. She's resting now, so wait a bit before you go to see her."

" What was wrong?"

" The wound on her foot. Father says that it must have become dirty and gotten infected. The infection poisoned her blood. She's lucky that you got her here in time—she was nearly lost and Father just barely managed to save her."

I simply look down and say nothing. Much too close a call for my liking. I suddenly feel eyes on me and I look back to see Arwen giving me a curious look. Tilting my head, I return her gaze. " What is it, my love?" I ask.

" Where is it that you found this girl, Aragorn?" she questions. She pulls out of my arms and takes my hand and walks with me across the courtyard to the gardens. " And what is her name?"

" Her name is Ember," I answer. " I found her in a village along the way here. She was living on the streets and trying to steal bread from the market when I first met her. She almost lost her hand."

" But then you stepped in," Arwen concludes, the hint of a smile in her voice.

" I had to. I couldn't let a child suffer."

Arwen makes a hum and nods in agreement. For a moment she is silent before speaking again. " 'Ember'," she muses, tasting the name on her tongue. " What a unique and beautiful name for a child."

It is my turn to hum and nod.

" Father told me that he sensed dwarf-blood in her. Is that true?"

At that, the small smile that has curved my lips slips away and I nod once more. " That is why I had to take her from the village," I explain sadly. " The child is a half-blood: her mother was human and her father a Dwarf."

" Where are her parents?"

" Well, her father seems to have disappeared shortly after he and her mother were married, and her mother was killed by the people of the village where she and Ember lived. Because no one knew of the marriage, they assumed Ember's mother a harlot and Ember her bastard half-blood child. Ember's mother saved her, but could not save herself."

" That's terrible," Arwen sympathizes, pain for the child in her voice.

I can only nod in agreement. It still baffles me how people can be so cruel to those such as Ember, and I suppose that will never quite understand it. With a heavy sigh, I turn to face Arwen and kiss her once more. When I pull away and gaze into her beautiful eyes and smile lovingly as I brush a lock of her long dark hair out of her flawless face.

Arwen smiles back up at me and presses her forehead to mine again. We stand there in silence for several minutes, simply enjoying the feeling of each others presence. Then Arwen kisses my cheek. " You should go to Ember now," she tells me the smile still on her lips. " She won't wake for a while, but you should be there for when she does."

With a smile and another sigh I nod and turn to leave. Suddenly I'm stopped by a hand on my arm and I turn back to see Arwen gazing at me once more. A serious expression ha replaced her loving one.

" Aragorn, there's something else you should know before you go to her."

" What is it, my love?"

" Father sensed something else in her as he healed her and he foresaw something in the girl's future."

" Yes?"

" Ember... She's the Avatar, Aragorn."


End file.
